Let's Talk about It.

Let’s talk about it. When two people love each other very much…no wait. That’s not what I meant to talk about. 

Let’s try this again. Eating disorders. There we go. Let’s talk about eating disorders. 

• 30+ million people struggle with an eating disorder in America alone

• 42% of 1st-3rd grade girls want to be thinner

• 33% of teenage boys and girls use unhealthy weight control behaviors such as skipping meals, fasting, smoking cigarettes, vomiting, and taking laxatives

• Eating disorders have the highest mortality rate of any mental illness

• Every 62 minutes someone loses his/her life as a direct cause of an eating disorder

Did you actually read those statistics? If not, back up and look at them. They are shocking even for me who is far more educated in eating disorders than the average bear. These statistics are great for getting a panoramic view and seeing the pervasiveness of eating disorders. But, these numbers fall flat because people with eating disorders aren’t just numbers on a paper. They are mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers, daughters, sons, babysitters, best friends, students, coworkers, and so on. They have a story, and each one is unique. 

The problem is so often our stories are silenced. Silenced out of fear. Silenced out of shame. Silenced due to the stigma and myths about eating disorders. Silenced because the words simply won’t come.

See, eating disorders thrive in silence. All the lies that feed the eating disorder are reinforced when we remain silent. Well, I’m done letting eating disorders thrive. Since starting my recovery, I choose to use my voice and talk about my eating disorder and eating disorders in general. And that’s exactly what I did about a month ago. I shared my journey with about 100ish college students. And this time the roles were reversed: I, my true self, was thriving while the shame, self-doubt, and fear have in my eating disorder was silenced. Although my voice quivered at times, I have never felt more empowered. It is my hope that when I spoke, I touched one person. That one person felt heard, understood, and loved.

And I will continue to talk. I will continue to share my story and be an advocate for eating disorder recovery. I will continue to open up about the things that are still hard and not let my eating disorder swallow me whole.

I will also listen. I will show compassion and help dismiss the shame, so that someone can open up and talk about their struggle. I will not simplify a person to a mere statistic, but I will see them as human. A person who is hurting, who is fighting, who is doing their very best, who…is just like me and just like you. 

It's a bird...It's a plane...It's Superman!

Sometimes I like to think I have superpowers. That I can work two jobs, go to school full time, be super involved in my sorority, go to PT twice a week, and oh yeah do that little thing called recovery too. I think this hectic schedule should be easy to manage. But the reality is, I am only human, and I run myself into the ground trying to keep up with this jam-packed lifestyle.

Why do I do it? Why do I take on more than I can bear? Even that question is hard for me to consider because I don’t like to admit I have a cap on what I can handle. However, I have had to face this issue because a lot of my eating disorder lives in the need to always be productive. I’ve come to realize it stems from a place of acceptance and worth, or lack thereof. I’m scared I won’t be seen as “good enough” if I don’t do 101 things. But deeper than fearing other people not accepting me, I’m scared that I won’t be able to accept myself. When I keep myself busy, I don’t have to grapple with the questions of worthiness. I’m scared if I stop the train, the self-hate will be too much for me to tolerate. So it seems easier to equate my worth with productivity and ignore the real issue of feeling undeserving and worthless.

The chaos quiets my inner critic for the moment; but in the greater scheme of things, it just makes the voice that screams “I am a failure” even louder. Inevitably, when I over commit, I have to let go of some things I love. And quitting something, makes me feel like a disappointment.

So what can I do to not feel like I have failed? This go around, I am stopping the cycle before it spins out of control. I am proactively taking time away from my job because I’ve started to notice my eating disorder popping back in. If I continue to let my recovery rest on the back burner, I will most definitely lose things I love and value. My recovery has to come first because I have to be healthy in order to enjoy my other commitments.

And by prioritizing my health, I have the space to truly address the feelings of failure that arise when I face the reality that I do have limits. I am realizing that I am strong enough to combat my inner critic, that I do have the tools I need to manage my emotions. Adding balance to my life and accepting my humanness allows me to be present in my life, instead of running around like a chicken with its head cut off.  

Easy as ABC

For the first time in over a year, I am back in school. I still bleed green and gold, but I am finding a new home at Loyola Marymount. This time around, I am committing to doing things differently—to lean on love not perfection.

As soon I enter the classroom, I can hear the perfectionism gears start to churn. “my notes must be error-free, my answers must always be right, I cannot mess up.” But that thinking is the old me. The environment brings out my perfectionistic tendencies, but now I am able to fight back. I remind myself that perfection is simply a façade—a way for me to feel in control when really I am scared of the uncertainty. It’s easier for me to hit the books and stress out over my performance instead of addressing the underlying fears. So rather than share about my “challenging coursework”, I choose to open up about the real things that are hard about being back in school.

It’s lonely. I only know a handful of students, and some days I feel invisible. As a commuter student working 2 jobs, it is hard to devote time to meeting people at school. But I know it is highly important because my eating disorder thrives in loneliness. Loneliness turns into unworthiness which either leads to a) unhealthy behaviors that give me a sense of accomplishment or b) destructive behaviors that result in punishment for being not good enough. Siding with my healthy self instead of my eating disorder self means combating loneliness with love. Self-love through acknowledging my accomplishments and participating in self-care. Love from my Savior who accepts me with all my faults. Love from my amazing friends who listen and laugh with me. And love from new friends I’ll make as I become more involved at LMU. These relationships are what remind me that I am enough just as I am and that I don’t deserve to be nasty to myself.

It’s scary. Starting back at school, which was a huge component of my eating disorder, makes me fearful that I am going to get sick again. I’m scared that I’m going to set unattainable expectations and place unnecessary pressure on myself. Will the demands of school lead me back into my depression? Will I turn to my eating disorder to cope with the stress of schoolwork? Am I capable of doing this? The great thing about recovering in a community is that I have too many people that care about me to let me fall back into the traps of my eating disorder. I don’t need to future trip because I know I have support that will keep me healthy. All I need to do is be honest, letting those around me help when I am struggling. I am capable of this!

The Jackson Five got it right—college might not be as easy as ABC, but love is, and that is what I need in order to do school differently.

Kids. Kiddos. Chillins. Squirts. Youngsters.

Most people my age go crazy whenever they see a puppy. It takes everything in them not to scoop up the fuzz ball and take it home with them. Me, not so much. The dogs don’t get me—but little babies, they sure do!!

Recently I’ve switched jobs, and now I am coaching gymnastics. Technically I am supposed to be teaching them; but honestly, these little humans are teaching me lots. I could go on for days about the lessons they remind me of, but for times sake I’ve opted to share the top four:

1.     Be Proud of Yourself

      When my little gymnast finally nails her cartwheel on the beam, she can’t wait to ring the bell and tell the whole gym how amazing she is. However, as adults we tend to minimize our accomplishments and tell ourselves the achievements aren’t good enough to be proud of. Instead if we respond like kids and own our victories, think of how much more confidence we would have in our daily lives.

2.     Cry

      Two of my little kiddos collided the other day. Boy, did they cry! And rightfully so. They were hurt and scared and weren’t afraid to show it. So often we are told to “conceal, don’t feel, don’t let them know” (I had to throw in a Frozen quote. We are talking about kids here!), and we end up burying our emotions deep inside. In recovery, I’ve learned that feeling the emotions and letting them pass is actually healthy. So go ahead and cry when it hurts.

3.     Love Unconditionally

      My gymnasts love me. They don’t care how much I weigh or what grades I make or how well I am adulting. Their unconditional love reminds me of how God loves me, not because I have done anything to deserve it, but just because I am me. We could all take a lesson from kids right here—to love ourselves for who we are and to love others with overflowing compassion and grace.

     

4.     Speak Your Mind

      These lil’ squirts have no filter. They will tell you that you are “the most beautiful” (thanks Roma <3). They will also tell you when something isn’t fair or if you are doing it all wrong. Kids are free to share their opinions and voice their truth. For too long I stayed silent in fear of speaking my truth. But I am learning to share what I think, speak up when I feel like I’ve been wronged, and tell others how lovely they truly are. This mindset is freeing, and we should take note from these wise little guys.

Yes, there are times when I want to scream because the 4 yr old will not listen for anything and the 2^nd graders won’t stop bickering and tattle taling. But all in all, I love them. I love them because of their innocence, of their kindness, of their ability to see beyond the surface. And if you ever need a pick-me-up, hit me up because I’ll have some pretty funny stories to tell and even better lessons to share from these krazy kiddos.